


A True King

by ChloShow



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Gender Identity, Kings & Queens, LGBTQ Themes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 20:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 10,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17567360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloShow/pseuds/ChloShow
Summary: In the midst of war, Khej's prince escapes his captors, falling into the life of a soldier deserting the battlefront.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Last year, I had been thinking about what gender systems looked like and functioned in fantasy worlds, so I wrote this.

Amir cut through the forest as quick as his legs could carry him, rocks and branches cutting into the soles of his bare feet. With no choice but to continue at full speed along the brown river, he neglected the various array of bruises he’d collected, knowing that whatever injuries he sustained from his escape would not compare to the work of Abalean’s most skilled torturers.

He knew he could either run until he collapsed, and who could say he wouldn’t collapse on the right side of the front? Or he could find a place to hide, wait until the Abalean scouts retreated, and continue his journey back to his troops unhindered. The prince’s head swiveled, desperately looking for cover, finding only scrubby plants and trees that couldn’t hide a sparrow if they tried. Although he could barely hear over the sound of his own ragged breath and the blood rushing through his ears, he managed to discern a dull thunder that he recognized as the river beside him cascading over a drop off.

This revelation pushed his tired legs across the terrain. From what he remembered of his studies in the geography of the region, there were a few waterfalls with space enough behind them that one could exploit for a variety of reasons, and for his purposes, this would serve as the perfect cover.

With his quickened pace, he reached the cliff in excellent time. For the most part, there was only a sheer rock face and no way to scale the steep surface. Scanning the rest of the environment, Amir found that the falls fed into a deep pool that eventually transformed into a continuation of the river. Thoughts clouded by exhaustion, his mind ran on pure instinct, and in that moment, he retraced his steps for some ways before turning around, sprinting toward the cliff, and leaping over the edge, limbs flailing, hoping to land in the water below.

Jarring his legs and knocking the breath out of him, he found himself deep beneath the pools surface, clawing upwards without anything in his lungs to aid his ascent. Breaking through to the world above, he gasped, continuing to claw forward through the water on instinct with only one conscious thought. Hide.


	2. Chapter 2

He had woken from sleep hours ago but couldn’t find the strength to move from his position on the cave’s floor. The roar of the falls insulated Abdi from the constant barrage of inner dialogue calling him a traitor, a coward, an embarrassment. Yes, he’d defected from the front. But he wasn’t even supposed to be there in the first place. Had his parents not volunteered him for service, he’d still be rehearsing for the upcoming production at the Lychett theatre. Now, instead of enjoying the thrill of the stage, he laid on the floor of a cave some distance from the front, having committed treason against the Khejian army and with no plan for his future.

In the safety of this artificial womb of existence, Abdi thought he heard shuffling along the rocky edge of the pool leading to his spot behind the falls. His detached mental state convinced him that the source of this sound was merely a deer or some other creature that would inevitably wander away. Moments later, labored breathing and stones shifting under foot alerted him to the presence of what could only have been a very human person struggling to stay upright. The male took one look at Abdi, braced himself against the cold cave wall, and collapsed to the ground.


	3. Chapter 3

For a fleeting moment as he regained consciousness, Amir believed that, despite his efforts, he’d been re-captured. He jolted upward, wincing as he recalled the injuries incurred on behalf of his torturers. Beneath him a sleeping mat cushioned his body, something unfamiliar to him during his days as a prisoner. The next clue to the fact he had not been apprehended was the gentle face that appeared from nowhere, telling him to lie back down and rest. A hand on the back of his neck guided him down to the mat and wiped his brow with a cold cloth.

“I was afraid you would never wake up,” the stranger revealed. Amir, ever attuned to his surroundings, discovered his host had balled up a Khejian tunic to support his head. Stitched beneath the kingdom’s insignia was the yellow shield representing the state of Lychett.

“You’re Lychettian.” Amir meant to ask this, but it came out as more of a relieved sigh.

This observation seemed to annoy his host for some reason.

“Yes, I am,” he responded, now holding a shallow bowl of what looked to be a dark broth. “My name is Abdi.” Once again, he looked annoyed. Whether this annoyance was due to having to take care of him or to some other unknown reason, Amir could not fathom. The moment of annoyance had passed, and only concern remained in Abdi’s eyes. He carefully lifted the bowl of broth to Amir’s lips, and for the first time, he realized just how famished he was. He sipped heartily, but Abdi cautioned him to slow down. “Not too much at once. You won’t be able to hold it down.”

After Abdi had returned the rest of the broth to the pot over a small fire, Amir looked around the cave hidden behind the waterfall and tried to recall his last memory. There was his jump off the cliff and…everything after that came in flashes of fear, desperation. Had he fainted? He knew little except that his whole body—ribs, face, hips, legs—screamed in pain. For the first time, he realized his chest was bare, and he could see the various mottled hues of red scrapes and wine-colored bruises running across his abdomen. Helplessness crashed over him as he attempted to move from his position on the floor. “I have to get back to the front as soon as possible,” he meant to think this, but the words escaped before he could stop them.

This gave Abdi pause. He seemed to search for the right words.

“You’ve been asleep for 3 days. I’m sure the front can manage a few more days without you.” He gave him a grim smile. Questions lingered un-asked in the air between them, but neither felt this was the time to breach the subject of how either of them came to this spot to seek refuge.


	4. Chapter 4

_‘Shit,_ ’ Abdi thought. _‘I’ve said too much. I’ve said too much, and now he knows my real name and where I’m from and—shit, I’ll have to kill him won’t I? I’ve never killed anyone before! But there’s a first time for everything. And we_ are _at war, so I guess it’s not exactly uncalled for. I don’t even know if he’s Abalean! I could be harboring one of the enemy. Not only have I defected, but I’m harboring one of the enemy. That’s great. Maybe I’ll be sentenced to death. Twice. They’ll kill me twice. Chop off my head, stitch it back on, and chop it off again. Shit!’_

He stood at the front of the cave pretending to wash the pot he’d nicked from the mess station, splashing the metal with the streams of water making their way down to the pool below. Telling by the various grunts and groans behind him, the man who’d introduced himself as Avery was still flexing his limbs in order to regain some of his strength. If he’d just woken up from a 3-day long, fever-induced coma, he’d be happy for a moment’s rest, not working to get fit for battle.

After filling the pot for the 15th time and dumping it out onto the cave floor, Abdi decided he couldn’t realistically continue his charade for much longer. He returned the pot to his pile of belongings and watched Avery’s chest heave with exhaustion. Beads of sweat rolled down his brow, and Abdi imagined that even in this state, Avery could beat him in a fight, so there was no use in a possible murder attempt.

“If you don’t rest, your body won’t heal,” Abdi pointed out. For some reason, this made Avery crack a smile.

“I’ve been resting for three days,” he laughed. His hoarse voice affected Abdi in the most curious way, sending a wave of satisfaction through his core. He tried to shake this off, but the feeling persisted.

“What’s your hurry? The war’s not going to end before you get back,” Abdi cringed at this joke. He wasn’t naturally good at talking to people in the first place, and on top of that, talking to Avery felt nearly impossible.

Luckily, this elicited a laugh from his guest. “I hope not. Knowing Khejian soldiers, they won’t leave any of the honor or glory for me by the time I return. Such is the way with men.” With a deep inhale of breath and ragged cry of determination, Avery pulled himself up into a seated position. “I know this may sound vain,” he managed, “But do you happen to have a blade with which I could shave off this hideous beard?”


	5. Chapter 5

“I’m on a reconnaissance mission,” Abdi explained as he pulled the blade across Amir’s face.

“What’s the situation like back at home? Who are you fighting for?” Amir smirked, always ready to endear himself to another Khejian subject. For the most part, the masses reveled in his charisma, but a spare few detested him for his future policies. He could ignore those citizens, seeing as all his policies went to improve and uphold the lifestyle of his people.

“If you don’t want a fresh batch of scars, you’ll stop moving,” Abdi huffed, holding Amir’s jaw firmly. Something processed in Abdi’s soft, dark eyes, and he decided to respond to Amir’s question. “I have no one to fight for but myself.”

“Surely a man such as yourself has a wife to return to. You nursed a stranger back to health without knowing if he was friend or foe, so you have much love to give.” He exaggerated. The loneliness in Abdi’s face resonated with him. Despite there being programs to raise wives fit for the position of King, Amir had not found his companion for life. He told himself it was because no female he knew of had the capacity to live up to his expectations. None were attractive, intelligent, or witty enough for him. His parents had been married at 20, but here he was at 30, wondering if an exception could me made to allow him to rule alone.

Abdi froze and looked back at him with longing in his eyes, the same longing Amir liked to deny filled his own heart.

“You’ll make a fine husband someday if you haven’t already,” Amir wondered if he was laying it on too thick, but to his surprise, he actually believed this. He hardly knew the man but sensed a connection between them that would surely turn into friendship if he let it. A sudden twinge of jealously crossed his mind at the idea of someone making Abdi their partner.

“Thank you,” he swallowed, “Surely you’re married. Someone with a mouth like yours can’t stay single for long.” Abdi’s eyes grew wide with embarrassment. “I mean, not your actual mouth, but what you say with it.”

This mishap pulled at the corners of Amir’s lips, stretching into a grin. “It seems as though I’m not the only one skilled in the art of flattery. Alas, I am married to my country as I assume you are.” His head swam with exhaustion and found that he had little strength left to continue a conversation, “I will stop making your work so difficult.” He squeezed Abdi’s blade-wielding hand, closing his eyes to appreciate the gentle human contact he’d missed out on for the last month. But as soon as his eyelids dropped, he found himself asleep, lost in dreams that told him soon he’d find someone who’d join him in ruling Khej.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, his guest sat across from him eating a stew of tubers, herbs, and a rabbit he’d only caught because it had a lame leg. Avery recounted how the Abaleans had found him wounded on the battlefield, recognized his high ranking, and interrogated him for what Avery estimated to be a month. As tempting as the explanation was to accept due to the man’s sheer charm, Abdi refused to quiet his suspicions. Maybe he was only wary because he had his own secrets to keep, but the last time he trusted someone, he wound up enlisted in the military.

“How did you escape?” Due to his profound paranoia, Abdi delivered the question more as an accusation than as an honest inquiry.

Avery considered him for a second, that same, addicting smile playing on his lips. “It wasn’t easy. I can tell you that,” he placed his meal to the side, and a mischievous gleam in his eyes preceded the story. “Well, the Abaleans alternated between torture and interrogation. After a few days, I’d grown accustomed to the shock of torture, and I noticed my interrogator had a habit of watching my mouth when I spoke. From this, I concocted a plan, a far-fetched plan, but being locked in the middle of the enemies’ camp can make you consider some outlandish options. I gave hints as to my supposed interest in this interrogator. I fed him fantasies of us living out our lives far from either of our countries where we could be ourselves without judgment or consequence. I managed to seduce him entirely, and one night—the night I escaped—I convinced him to leave me unchained so that we might meet up and make our escape. Can you imagine? I fooled a royal Abalean interrogator, someone who is supposed to be one of the most cunning and manipulative people at the court’s disposal. And the sad part is that this was entirely the court’s fault. To have trained and trusted a male who shows such aberrant behavior towards other males is not a mistake I would make—if, say, I were King,” he hastily added.

Abdi forced himself to laugh along to Avery’s tale when in reality he knew many actors in Lychett whose interests paralleled those of the Abalean interrogator. “I have seen many males and females alike exhibiting such behavior in the Khejian military. So much so that I came to believe this was common,” he shrugged, hoping to stand up for his friends in a way that appeared to be an inoffensive, innocent remark. Although he told himself he spoke on his friends’ behalf, he felt Avery’s story deliver a particularly sour blow to his own gut.

“The King allows it only because they say it strengthens our defenses,” he sneered, “but, again, if I were King, I’d have all these deviants rounded up and executed in every village square across Khej. Who cares about the physical strength of one’s military when the country is plagued by such a moral rot? If anyone truly knew the culture and tradition this kingdom was founded on, they would not object.”

“Would there not be uprisings if such a thing happened?”

“Let there be uprisings!” Avery exclaimed enthusiastically, “That would make rooting out the dissenters much more simple. Then after they’re all defeated, the kingdom will prosper.”

Pushing aside his stew, Abdi considered all the effort he spent saving this man’s life. He felt his mouth grow dry and his chest tighten with nausea. ‘ _At least_ ,’ Abdi thought, ‘ _he’ll never be King_.’


	7. Chapter 7

In the last two centuries, there had not been a male woman on the throne. Often Amir wondered if this hadn’t been the case, would he still have been pronounced a man? He possessed a strong enough analytical mind to best an Abalean interrogator. But he was also capable of leading armies into war and delivering charismatic speeches. So what was the truth? Was he man or woman? He had delayed answering this question throughout his entire 30 years of life because to be neither or both was simply impossible.

But looking at Abdi with a mind free of fatigue, he wasn’t entirely convinced who he saw before him was a man. How could a soldier be anything other than a man? Interrogators and strategists aside, war was man’s territory, and Abdi held himself a little too delicately for Amir’s taste.

“Who’s your commanding officer?”

“Joon,” Abdi offered this hesitantly, “Why do you ask?”

“I wanted to commend your service once we return to camp. Perhaps you’ll be awarded an honor by the King.” He chuckled to himself at that last bit.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to return to camp on your own. I must see to my duty here,” Abdi picked up his battered military issue dining ware and turned his back to Amir, washing the metal plate and cup in the jets of the waterfall.

This came as an unwelcome surprise. Finding his way to camp alone without backup was less than ideal, especially at half strength. “I must insist that you accompany me back to the camp. If rewards don’t entice you, I’ll have to resort to force. As soon as I can walk unaided, I order you as a superior officer to return with me.”

Abdi finished with the wash and walked with his eyes downcast towards his pack. “I apologize, but Joon specified these orders were from the very top. I wouldn’t want to violate a direct command from the King.”

As the first in line for the throne, Amir was privy to all his parents’ tactical meetings. Despite his identity as a man, he still had to know basic strategy, and he’d continue attending these meetings once he’d chosen a proper woman to complete his future Kingship. And to his knowledge, there were no soldiers stationed on this side of the front to scout out potential flanking. The atmosphere in the cave shifted completely now that Amir realized he actually knew nothing about this man.

“Don’t you miss home, Abdi?” He continued, hoping he could discover a weak point, “I would push for you to get an early leave, and who knows…the war could be won before you have to return.”

“All I’m concerned with is serving my country,” he took a seat on the opposite side of the fire from Amir, and the flames lit his face from below. “I have no home to return to.”

If that weren’t the most convenient excuse. Among the royal court, Amir was infamous for his short temper, and he could feel that familiar frustration rising in his chest and burning his temples.

“What if I said that I could command you using the power of the King,” Amir watched Abdi’s head tilt downward and his shadowed eyes grow helpless.

“I’m not one to invoke the power of a life debt,” Abdi started haltingly, writhing uncomfortably under Amir’s direct stare, “But I’m afraid that’s what this has come down to.”

“Are you saying that because you saved my life, I have to let you stay here?” Amir scoffed, “I have tried my best to stay calm, but you leave me no choice. On behalf of my powers as the crown prince of Khej, I command you to escort me back to my parents. Life debt or not.”

“You’re not the prince,” Abdi frowned, “For one, the prince’s name is not Avery. It’s Amin. I’ve seen him. He looks nothing like you.”

That was not possible. Amir had been injured on the battlefield, of course, but his body was no longer there for them to pronounce him dead. They had to know he wasn’t dead. Amin had seen—

Amin had seen him captured. He’d watched on horseback as a crew of Abalean scouts hauled him away on a stretcher. In his wounded daze, he’d assumed Amin didn’t interfere because he was greatly outnumbered. He’d shouted after him. They had to know he wasn’t dead.

“And what of Prince Amir?” He asked.

“Prince Amin addressed our company and told of how he fought for Prince Amir’s life, but that the Abalean forces drove a sword through his brother’s chest before he could rescue him,” Abdi recounted much to Amir’s horror.

No one had been searching for him for the past month. They all thought he was dead because Amin—the fucking coward—had betrayed him.

“I am not dead,” he proclaimed, and Abdi furrowed his brow in response. “I am the rightful prince, and I will unveil my brother for the traitor he is.”


	8. Chapter 8

Just his luck. He’d run away and stumbled upon the prince of the country he was trying to desert. Or a delusional guy convinced he was the prince. Either way, he was starting to regret saving the man’s life.

“I don’t care who you say you are,” Abdi stood, losing his patience, “I am staying here!”

“My first order of business upon returning to camp is to have my brother arrested for treason. My second order will be your execution. Do you hear me?” Amir attempted to stand, bracing his body against the wall as he drew himself to Abdi’s height.

‘ _What is he thinking? Everyone believes he’s dead, and I could easily make that a reality. He’s lucky I’m a coward._ ’ Abdi watched Amir push his chest out as if to intimidate him, but he wasn’t fooled. “I’ll be executed if I return.” He laughed bitterly. Maybe there was a god out there. Someone who was dead set on making sure he got what he deserved. Initially, he thought he and Avery—Amir shared something, a connection. Now he realized that was merely Amir’s skill at manipulation, the same skill that convinced an interrogator to fall in love with him. Once again, fate had reasserted the foolishness in trusting anyone.

Amir’s face contorted in confusion and smoothed out in the same breath, catching Abdi’s meaning. “You’re not a scout…”

“I wasn’t meant to be here,” he sighed, bracing himself against the cave wall and losing himself in the crackling fire. “My parents had wanted me to be a man—they’re both men. And instead I let them down in every way possible. I was never strong enough or assertive enough. Then when I left home to join an acting troupe, I humiliated them in front of the whole village. They thought they could regain a semblance dignity by forcibly enlisting me and having me realize my ‘true identity,’ but I guess I only managed to disappoint them more.”

The only sound left in the cave was that of the falls. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was listening to a thunderstorm and that he was standing in his room back in Lychett. Tomorrow he’d perform in the latest production. In costume, he was neither man nor woman. He could abandon himself for a moment, and in that moment, he was truly free.


	9. Chapter 9

He awoke with the light of the early morning breathing new life into his body. After Abdi had revealed his truth last night, Amir hadn’t said anything, only eased himself back on his mat and urged sleep to take his thoughts from him. There was no anger in his heart toward Abdi, only pity. The anger and hatred that currently consumed him belonged to his traitorous brother. Grabbing the walking stick Abdi had fashioned for him over the past few days, he pulled himself up and willed his legs to move. He edged around the slippery path leading from the cave and oriented himself to the environment.

If Abdi wouldn’t come with him, he’d have to leave by himself, so now was as good a time as any. The pool below the falls fed into a stream that he knew eventually grew to the size of the river above. He crossed in the shallows and wiped his bare feet on the soft grass. With his eyes, he followed the path the cliff took along the horizon, and as far as he could see, the height remained constant. For a few hundred feet he continued, looking for a place he could feasibly scale the rock face, but soon his strength left him. He’d been basically immobile for nearly a week, and his exercises in the few days before had done little to help heal his body. The pink sunrise shone over the cliffs; though he wished to continue, he turned his back to the light, intent on returning to the cave.

‘Tomorrow,’ he promised himself, ‘Tomorrow I’ll go further, and the next day further than that until I’m free of this place.’ After crossing the stream once more, he watched the ground for sharp rocks and small wildlife. As a young boy, he’d run outside barefoot and slipped on a rather large slug. While surveying the grass cautiously, he failed to see the person hiding amongst the trees, stealing from trunk to trunk until they landed a sufficient blow to the back of his head.


	10. Chapter 10

On a regular day, he slept badly, but after severing his emotional connection to Amir, admitting treason to the prince of his country, and having to lay on the bare ground, it was a wonder he’d slept at all. He’d heard Amir wake up and assumed he was going for an early morning bathroom break. His prolonged absence didn’t worry him—didn’t even register in his mind—until he thought he heard someone shouting. Abdi figured now was as good a time as any to face the day, so he stretched and made his way out into the sunlight.

As he exited the cave, he watched his feet, careful not to slip. Not until he found himself beside the pool’s shore did it register they had a visitor. And not a kind visitor at that.

“You shall pay the ultimate price for what you did to me!”

He slowly processed these words along with the raised sword in the intruder’s hand and started sprinting—not back toward the cave but toward the kneeling Amir facing his execution.

Just as the intruder swung his blade, Abdi dove at Amir, knocking him to the ground and pressing him flat to avoid harm. He didn’t know why he was risking his life for someone he couldn’t stand. Amir was arrogant and bullheaded and ignorant, but Abdi’s instincts urged him to throw his body on top of the prince in an effort to save him.

Looking up at Amir’s would-be executioner, a foreign voice in his head informed him this was the Abalean interrogator who Amir had deceived. Abdi rose to his feet quickly and drew a fighting stance. Since when had he learned to fight? The interrogator composed himself, readied his sword for another swing, and considered Abdi with a strange expression. Unlike usual, Abdi knew exactly what he needed to do, so as the interrogator wielded the heavy sword, Abdi grabbed onto the male’s shoulder and heaved himself onto his opponent’s back. Before he could internally protest, he took the interrogator’s head in his hands and snapped his neck as easily as he might a chicken’s.

As the body fell to the ground, Abdi landed on his feet and for the first time noticed how considerably shorter he felt. He chanced a glance at the spot he’d last seen Amir and discovered he had disappeared.

“Amir?” He called, hearing a distinct change in his voice in addition to his height. “Amir?” He tried once more, and this time knew for sure this was not his voice.

“It is not yours. It is Sunita’s.” The same foreign voice from before echoed in his mind, which he now recognized as the voice that issued from his throat, replacing his own. He threaded his hands through his hair in distress only to discover his short cut had been replaced with long, wavy curls.

A deep anxiety grew in his chest and began to pull, tearing until his body wrenched itself apart. Amir tumbled out over the wet grass in pure horror, and Abdi found his body returned to its original height.

“No!” Amir bellowed, clutching the ground, grabbing clumps of soil and throwing them as far as he could manage.

“Are you okay?” Abdi reached out to comfort him, but Amir swatted him away.

“Don’t touch me!” He ordered. “Don’t you touch me!” Amir attempted to rise but only managed to fall over himself, a pitiful, sobbing mess.

Perhaps a few moments too late, Abdi understood that the two of them had been one. Someone stronger and more perceptive than either of them on their own. What had wrenched them apart was Amir’s fear. “That was incredible,” he breathed. He’d felt everything Amir had felt, had known his insecurities and hopes and doubts for only the briefest of moments.

“Blasphemy! Sacrilege!” Amir spat. “I have desecrated my family’s holy lineage.”

Despite Amir’s ranting, Abdi felt only wonder. “How could something like that possibly happen?”

“Think for one second before you ask stupid questions,” Amir pulled himself up at last, “The kingdom was built on the certainty that my family, my lineage had the power to rule two as one. So many believe this is metaphorical, symbolic, but at one point, this myth was an actuality. And now we have sullied an ancient, sacred union.”

“How could you call what just happened anything but beautiful?” Abdi considered Amir with pity. “Or is it the fact that we are two males, and your ancient power still allowed this to happen?”

Amir shot him a sour look. “Nothing happened. And if you say otherwise, you will die quickly.”

“I’m dead either way,” he chuckled mirthlessly.

“Don’t say anything about this,” Amir began, “and I will pardon you. That’s the least I can do for you saving my life twice.” He added the last statement begrudgingly with his eyes betraying a second of gratitude before he turned back to the falls. “We must leave today. If he had enough time to find us, who knows who else is waiting for us beyond those trees.”


	11. Chapter 11

The two of them set out immediately with Amir trying his best to keep up the pace as they searched for a break in the steep cliffs. He craned his neck, trying to spot any signs of life atop the moss-covered crags. Straining his hearing, he caught a stray bird song and the constant rush of water over stones beside them as the stream grew back into the river it had started as. Abdi walked several paces ahead of him even though Amir was pushing his hardest to keep up.

They didn’t talk. Amir kept to himself out of his disinterest in involving himself with a self-professed traitor of the country. He supposed Abdi didn’t try to initiate any conversation out of sheer shame. Glaring at the back of Abdi’s head, he tried his hardest to hate him. Such a person could never find themselves matched to the prince of Khej. And a male who had tenuous connections to both man and womanhood at that! When he assumed the throne, he swore to reinstate the laws of the past that ensured men were male and women were female. Becoming more liberal in order to gain the support of the rabble was a surefire way to destroy his dear country. Khej hadn’t been at war in 150 years, and now they were fighting Abalee? His people were facing the consequences of his irresponsible ancestors, and he’d correct that on the first day of his reign after he’d finally matched himself with a beautiful, cunning woman.

But that would never happen. He’d already been matched. A true match. There hadn’t been a true match in centuries. His family had hidden this fact from the public, but not for nearly 5 centuries had there been a royal match who could call themselves a true King.

Their souls had called out to one another to create the next King of Khej, but now Amir could never be King. All his policy changes hinged on him marrying traditionally, and with the knowledge that his match was not only male but also decidedly neither man nor woman, he could never ascend the throne in good conscience. And his brother, Amin, would never enact the changes Amir supported. He was a soft-hearted liberal at odds with all of Amir’s future policies.

In front of him, he heard Abdi mumbling to himself. At first he tried to ignore it, but here and there he thought he recognized the words as familiar. “What is that you’re saying?”

“Hm?” Abdi stopped, processing what Amir had asked. “Oh, I didn’t think you could hear me.”

“Nevermind that,” he caught up to Abdi and passed him, unwilling to make any sort of eye contact with him lest he feel the need to reach out and complete their connection. “I don’t know how I feel about your mumbling under your breath as we walk. If you want to tell me off, stop being such a coward and tell me to my face.”

Abdi jogged the distance Amir had covered while he’d stood still and matched his pace to dismiss the misunderstanding.

“I was reciting my lines to pass the time,” Abdi clarified, evading Amir’s aggression, “Before this whole mess, I had the lead role in my troupe’s production of The Tale of The First King. I don’t know how they’re getting on without me. My understudy’s a mess.”

“You were to play Abdi?”

“Nova.”

Amir couldn’t hold back his disgust. “You’re saying you were to play a female in the kingdom’s most sacred story?”

“It’s what the director wanted,” Abdi shrugged, “She said most productions emphasize the religious aspect of the story, but her vision was more political.”

He fumed at Abdi’s nonchalance. “Theatre is the bane of civilization.”

“It’s funny you say that,” he smirked. “She actually dedicated the production to you. She hoped it would be banned because that meant the production’s message had succeeded.”

Ridiculous. “So the whole goal was to be as offensive as possible? How can you stand by and accept such heresy?”

“I loved the idea.”

“How—“

Abdi cut him off. “You seem to be forgetting the truly revolutionary part of the story, Amir.”

Hearing Abdi say his name caught Amir off guard. Usually, when anyone addressed him besides his own kin, he was Prince Amir or Your Highness or any combination of esteemed language. Abdi addressed him as an equal or—dare he say it—as a friend.

“As you know all too well, Nova was royalty, and Abdi was a slave,” he continued, “Upon discovering the two of them were matched by the gods, they married. Not able to accept this, Nova’s parents exiled her and Abdi to the wilderness. When the gods saw this, they incited a slave uprising. The royals were powerless against the tide of slaves burning down shops, houses, and crops. Not until Nova and Abdi had returned, now formed as Shai, did the slaves cease the destruction. And when Shai took the throne from Nova’s powerless parents, they freed all slaves. If the role of Nova and Abdi were played by two males, the story would take on an entirely new meaning.”

Amir wanted to argue that the two issues were totally separate, but a small part of his mind kept him silent. The part of his mind that had wondered intermittently throughout his life if the reason why Khej hadn’t had a true King in hundreds of years was due to the fact that the royal marriages were not following the will of the gods. He always took the story as indication, no, as proof that only males and females should marry. But just as Nova and Abdi had formed Shai, he and Abdi had formed Sunita.


	12. Chapter 12

With Amir’s injuries and no shelter from the merciless heat, they made slow progress. Just before sunset, they made camp underneath an overhang that jutted out from the cliffs. Abdi struggled to start a fire before the night’s dropping temperatures froze their limbs. Neither had eaten much all day, and Abdi wasn’t keen on hunting to fulfill their appetites.

‘ _Sunita would have no problem catching a rabbit_ ,’ a stray thought ran through his head before he could stop it.

‘There is no way I will open myself up to that hateful man.’ Abdi stood firm. Amir frustrated and annoyed him to no end. But he couldn’t help but remember the fear in Amir’s spirit when they’d first formed. He’d felt Amir’s emotions stifled behind rigid layers of internalized hatred, and those layers had dissolved, his spirit eagerly reaching out toward Abdi’s in need of a warm, safe connection.

“Well, if you’re not going to find dinner, then I guess it’s up to me,” Amir rooted through Abdi’s pack, searching for a weapon.

Before he could stop himself, the words had already escaped. “We could always go together.”

Of course, the obvious interpretation was that the two of them could work as a team to find dinner, but neither Abdi nor Amir considered this.

The firelight painted Amir’s face in caricature as he hesitated to respond.

“It’s getting dark, you’re wounded, and I’m a pitiful hunter on a good day. I thought if we’re going to have the strength to carry on tomorrow—“

“How do you know that would do us any good?” Amir bit back, disguising his interest with venom.

“You must remember how strong she was! And how fast!” Abdi answered. “If anyone could successfully hunt at dusk, it’s her.”

Amir stood, hands on hips, facing the fading sun for far too long as Abdi’s heartbeat counted the moments. The possibility of creating Sunita once more excited Abdi as much as it repulsed him. He stared at the fire, the cliffs bathed in orange light, anywhere but at Amir. Well into his thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Amir extending his hand solemnly. Abdi reached out in turn and pulled himself to his feet. Nothing happened at first, but through their physical connection, he felt a subdued energy coursing through Amir’s palm and fingers. He swallowed hard and let himself go, closing his eyes, reaching forward with his spirit, and—


	13. Chapter 13

She stretched her arms to the sky, watching the streams of light flit through her hands. The knife she pulled from Abdi’s pack glinted magnificently as she headed toward the forest opposite the cliffs. She stepped lightly, leaving barely an imprint in the scrubby grass. Her ears picked up the slightest sounds—a bird taking flight, a squirrel scurrying up a tree trunk.

Sitting in a patch of clover sat a hare, and Sunita snuck forward on the balls of her feet. Close enough to attack, she jumped, arms outreached to capture the animal. The hare darted forward and left Sunita with an armful of air. She rolled over on her back, giggling softly at first and then laughing from deep in her gut. The tops of trees swayed in the wind, and Sunita sighed deeply, grateful for the chance to experience such a captivating evening.

Each breath felt like a blessing. Where was she going? What did she have to do? All she knew was that she wanted to celebrate every moment of her existence. As she embraced all that she was, something small and damp pressed lightly to her forehead. Lifting herself up, she found the hare had returned. Even as she reached forward, the hare stayed frozen. She took the hare in her arms, stroked its fur with gratitude, and hoped it felt no pain as she snapped its neck.

Now that she’d secured dinner, she felt Amir suggesting that she separate, but unlike before, there was no internal horror, no panic willing an end to her existence.

Returning to the camp, she re-kindled the fire from its dying embers and began cleaning the hare. She didn’t possess enough water for a stew, so she threaded the strips of meat onto thin sticks. The meal took a while to cook through, but she passed the time reciting lines from The Tale of The First King and humming a few of Amir’s favorite court ballads.

After dinner, she stretched out on Abdi’s mat and swore she’d separate as soon as she’d spotted all the constellations.

She woke up at first light, disoriented. Amir and Abdi had curled up around each other in the middle of her chest, but now that Sunita had regained consciousness, the two pulled back on reflex, leaving them speechless where she had fallen asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

They marched underneath the mid-summer sunrise, heading out early to avoid the heat of the day. Amir pointedly said nothing. There were no words to describe their experience. No words to describe what he’d dreamt with Abdi during the night.

Despite his moral objections to what he and Abdi had formed, he couldn’t stop thinking about the two of them sharing a body, how soft Abdi’s spirit felt against his like a gentle salve. They had created someone—neither woman nor man—someone who destroyed everything Amir stood for. So why did he crave the stability that Sunita offered him? He could still feel her power and hated himself for hoping for a chance to touch Abdi, to form who they were fated to create.

Hours passed in silence. Hanging in the middle of the sky, the sun beat down on him fiercely. With any shelter now far behind them, his skin burned and his muscles screamed.

“Canteen.” He sputtered, and Abdi handed him the leather pouch that stored all their water. They’d strayed from the river in an attempt to follow the cliffs, and now as he drank the last drops of water, he regretted they hadn’t been more prepared. His body screamed for rest, but he knew if he stopped now, he wouldn’t move for hours.

“I know how you feel about this,” Abdi started, “but if we were to…”

Without finishing his statement, Amir knew what he was suggesting. As Sunita, he had experienced none of the fatigue and pain he did as Amir, and so he nodded his head breathlessly.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Abdi approached him and grasped his shoulder with no effect. Amir let go of his walking stick and reciprocated the gesture, pulling Abdi closer and closer until their foreheads rested against each other roughly. He felt a tug between their spirits, inviting each other to inhabit the same space, and in the next moment, they were one.


	15. Chapter 15

Sunita shouldered Abdi’s pack easily, trailing along the cliffs at a steady pace. Her hair clung to her neck, so as she hiked, she wove a thick braid that fell over her shoulder and allowed her skin to breathe. She drank in the sights with the eyes she never thought she’d see from again and felt an overwhelming love for herself and the world. When the shadows on the ground grew longer, she stopped to have a meal of berries and some jerky saved from Abdi’s military stock.

Marching along, she decided to occupy her time with a song. Her voice carried over the trees, and her wordless tune attracted a host of small creatures—bees, butterflies, ladybugs—who followed in her wake.

When she first came into being, Amir had resisted, and yesterday, the two had worked together grudgingly, but in the current moment, the two lives inside her coalesced and explored each other, creating a satisfying hum in the middle of her chest. After a while, an idea struck her. She was stronger than both Amir and Abdi, so maybe she could scale the cliffs that so mocked her before. Settling her hands and feet into grooves, she pulled herself up, amazed at the ease with which she scaled the rock face.

As she stood triumphant, she watched the sun set over the distant mountains in a deep rosy cradle. Her braid whipped in the wind, and she took in a deep breath, reveling in her accomplishments.

An earthy smell caught her attention, and turning around, she spotted billows of smoke rising from afar. Surely she’d traveled enough to escape enemy territory. This could be her camp at last.

Their camp.

She felt herself disintegrating, one spirit forcing itself against the other until—

Amir tumbled backwards but remained on his feet. Abdi stood tall with his pack weighing him down and watched Amir evade his gaze. They had shared each other. Known each other. Worked as one. And no matter how Amir acted, Abdi knew the prince’s spirit still reached out for his.


	16. Chapter 16

No one noticed them at first. They blended in amidst the hordes of dirty men sharpening swords, repairing armor, and dousing themselves in water to counteract the day’s heat. Evening shadows disguised them until a single, anonymous voice rang out.

“It’s the prince!”

Men dropped their work and meals to find that yes, Prince Amir stood before them. Alive.

Soldiers pushed Abdi aside to get a look at the prince returned from the dead. He extricated himself from the crowd and hid behind the tent, fully aware news must have circulated around his unit about him and his traitorous desertion.

“What is all this nonsense?” A strong voice resonated through the crowd, and Abdi recognized it instantly. “I command you all to stop this instant!” Joon ordered. Soldiers parted, forming a clear path to Amir, and Joon approached, skeptical. She stopped a few paces from Amir, towering over him and inspecting his face with a stoic frown. The crowd remained speechless as Joon knelt, bowing her head in respect. “Where have you been, Your Majesty? The King believes thee to be dead.”

Before he could hear Amir’s response, a sharp blow landed across Abdi’s brow, and he lay motionless, unconscious on the muddy ground.


	17. Chapter 17

At the center of the camp laid the royal tent. Torches sprang to life as the last bit of sunset disappeared beneath the horizon, and the rich blue shone fiercely under the patches of firelight.

The crowd had separated him from Abdi, but that was no immediate worry. The promise of extra meal vouchers would make sure any men aware of his treason would turn him in alive, and if that were the case, all Amir had to do was wave his hand and pardon his new friend. Larger problems awaited him inside the royal tent where his brother Amin turned from his conversation with an advisor to lock eyes with him as if they had returned to the battlefield from whence he abandoned him.

“Amir?” His mother called out, rising from her chair at the long table set for dinner, waiting for a reply in the affirmative before she took further action.

“My men found him on the edge of camp, Your Majesty,” Joon bowed low and looked for Amir to confirm her statement.

“Is this true, son?” His father clutched his chalice, his dark eyes shining under a thick brow.

“It’s true,” he managed to extricate his gaze from his brother’s and deliver his attention to his stunned parents. The words stuck to the insides of his throat, and the normally confident, assured Amir fell silent.

With these two words, King Maya carefully approached Amir and took his face in her hands, searching for the scar along his jaw earned from his first foray into battle. Her fingers felt over the rough tissue, and she smiled deeply, creasing the age lines in her face in the most beautiful way. “It’s him,” she announced, and King Avi tore from his spot at the table to embrace his son.

“Officer Joon, you shall be richly rewarded for your service. You may leave,” Maya dismissed her and considered the rest of the court seated for dinner, “The rest of you may leave as well. This is a private reunion.” With a wave of her hand, the court exited the tent, leaving only the family within. “Your sister will be very pleased,” she settled her hand on Amir’s shoulder, and he searched for his sister in vain. “She is not here at the moment,” Maya laughed brightly. “She’s addressing a…situation with the current steward. But that’s neither here nor there. Amin,” her voice rose, “Welcome your brother back to the land of the living.”

His father grinned and kissed his cheeks before he let Amir reunite with his brother. Amin inspected him gravely, unsure if and when Amir would strike.

Amir extended his arm slowly as did Amin. The two grabbed each other’s forearms at the crease near the elbow and refused to break eye contact. Amin looked as if he were searching for how much Amir actually remembered, so Amir broke into a wide smile, pulling Amin forward in an embrace. “Brother!” He exclaimed, choosing to pretend his memory was too damaged to recall Amin’s betrayal. He’d rather play dumb than find a knife in his chest later that night.

“Amin,” King Maya commanded her son’s attention, “You told us you saw the Abalean soldiers kill your brother isn’t that right? Avi, am I mistaken?”

“This is a happy moment, Maya,” Avi proclaimed, “I refuse to do anything but rejoice in my son’s miraculous return!”

“I want to know why Amin claimed to have seen Amir slain on the battlefield,” Maya continued.

“It is true, mother. I was close to death,” Amir interrupted. “I wouldn’t blame Amin for believing I was dead. I hardly knew I was alive!” Once they were back home after the war had ended, Amir would seek his revenge. He’d reveal how he feared for his life, so he lied to keep himself safe. Amin would be executed in front of the whole kingdom to show that Prince Amir was merciless.

But was he so merciless?

“Sit, please.” His father prodded, “Have something to eat. You look ravaged.” King Avi escorted his son to a chair and took a seat beside him.

Until that moment, he’d been fine, but as soon as his father mentioned his appearance, he felt his stomach’s desperate cry for food. Avi piled food on Amir’s plate, more than enough to feed three soldiers. His father’s good humor touched his heart, and before he knew it, happy tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Tell me, Amir,” Avi watched him as if he expected him to disappear any moment, “How did you do it? How did you escape?”

He prepared himself to recall the skillful manipulation of his interrogator when he imagined the interrogator’s dead body resting at the edge of the waterfall. The main point of that story was how ridiculous the interrogator had to be to believe two males could fall in love. But did he still believe that was so ridiculous?


	18. Chapter 18

A bucket of cold water woke him from a light slumber. The chains around his wrists had rubbed him raw over night, and the howls of fellow prisoners in the makeshift camp prison echoed in his ears.

“Sunrise. Hope you all said your prayers,” the guard said bluntly, yanking Abdi up by the arm and pulling the chain that held the 5 prisoners in this cell together.

He hadn’t panicked all night. Abdi trusted Amir would deliver on his promise to pardon him, citing their bond as Sunita, but in a bleary haze as he stumbled out of the camp’s prison, he realized the guard wasn’t just mocking him. He and the other prisoners were headed toward the executioner’s platform. 

Doubt had crept into his heart, telling him that Amir couldn’t care less about some lonely, treasonous peasant from Lychett.


	19. Chapter 19

Somewhere in the camp, a rooster crowed, and he woke with a start. He dreamt of Abdi on the executioner’s chopping block, and although it was merely a dream, he felt compelled to find his friend as quickly as possible.

He’d declined to reveal any details of his escape to his family, citing that he needed his rest. He couldn’t find the words to describe what had happened, didn’t even know if he wanted to tell the world his holy match was male. Hurriedly pulling on a fresh shirt, tunic, and pair of trousers, he made his way out to the executioner’s block where men stood for their daily entertainment as they watched thieves, traitors, and spies die gruesome deaths.

As he struggled through the crowd, a blast of horns drew everyone’s attention, and a herald announced, “The Prince wishes to view the morning’s execution.”

Amir swiveled around, looking for Amin but realized the herald was addressing him. After so long away from normal life, he forgot what it was like to be followed constantly by guards. The crowd, astonished by the presence of the supposedly dead prince, parted so that he had an unencumbered view of the executioner’s block.

“Here, Your Majesty,” the herald sat a chair behind him, expecting Amir to sit. Instead, Amir approached the raised platform. As he drew closer, he could make out a tall, lanky figure chained to a row of men waiting for their deaths.

“Let him go at once,” he commanded the guard in charge of the prisoners. At this, Abdi looked up, and his hopeless eyes shot straight through to Amir’s heart.

“Sorry, m’lord. ‘fraid that’s impossible.” The guard shrugged his shoulders as if this were no problem of his. “Without an official pardon from the King, I can’t do nothing.”

“I’m the crown prince of Khej, and I order you at this moment to unshackle him,” he bellowed, but this did not faze the guard whatsoever.

“Can’t be executed my own damn self for disobeying the law, sir.” The guard responded dully and ushered the line of prisoners up onto the platform.

Amir’s eyes grew wide, frantic. He scanned the crowd for any sign of his parents but knew that hope was ridiculous. His legs froze to the spot as he watched the first prisoner cry out to the crowd, fighting against the guards who shackled his wrists and ankles to the executioner’s block. The executioner himself heaved the massive ax above his head and let the blade fall heavy into the doomed prisoner’s neck. Failing to cut all the way through, the executioner wrenched the ax from the prisoner’s twitching body and let the blade fall once more, this time completely separating the head from the body.

“Next.” The droll guard shouted, biting into a crisp apple, and Amir watched as several guards began the process of unchaining Abdi from the row of prisoners before shackling him to the bloody block.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t have a plan. His tongue felt like lead in his mouth. No words would save Abdi’s life, but what could?

Without another thought, Amir bounded up the steps to where Abdi stood, and ignoring the stares from the crowd, he pressed first his and Abdi’s foreheads then mouths together, making absolutely sure they’d become Sunita.


	20. Chapter 20

The morning sun rose behind her, a halo of light encompassing her whole body.

“I am Sunita. Future King of Khej.” Her voice rang out so that the entire camp might hear her. “If you set a hand on me, the penalty is death.”

The guard who had denied Amir’s request for a pardon dropped his apple, and the crowd, who’d been jeering and shouting for Abdi’s death, stood completely still, mouths agape. Sunita descended from the platform and walked through the crowd unhindered, past the herald and royal guards to the center of the camp.

She entered the royal tent as King Maya and Avi were breaking fast.

“Your Majesties,” the guard began, “you have a visitor.”

“And just who might enter the royal tent uninvited?” Avi exclaimed, and Maya touched his arm calmly, rising to inspect their guest.

“Yes,” she continued her husband’s sentiment, “Explain this insolence.”

“I have come to request a pardon for one Abdi Makhoul,” Sunita began. “You see, I am the future King of Khej, your son matched with another’s soul.”

King Maya searched for her son’s scar on Sunita’s face but could find no trace of it.

“I bear no resemblance to either your son or Abdi, but I believe you’ll see me in your heart.” Sunita kept her chin level, confident that Maya’s connection to the lineage would show her the truth.

“Nonsense!” Avi proclaimed, “If you really are my son, show me his face!”

“Abdi’s life hangs in the balance. If I show you Amir’s face, Abdi may be escorted for a prompt execution. That’s why I stay formed as myself.”

“I don’t understand,” Maya held her chin in thought, “I sense him yet I do not see him. Can it be true that he has found a match after so many centuries of faith lost in the ancient tradition?”

“Mother! Father! The soldiers!” Amin’s voice made his presence known well before he entered the tent. “They’re weeping! All of them!“ He stopped at the sight of Sunita.

“Brother,” she began, “I know you lied about Amir’s death to usurp the throne.” Before Amin could protest, she placed three fingers gently over his mouth. “Amir believed the act to be unforgivable, but now I see clearly. You despised him. His hatred. His arrogance. All of his future policies. So you thought it was in the kingdom’s best interest for Amir to die, and I’m afraid to admit it was.” She removed her hand from Amin’s mouth, and he remained silent. “Through divine fate, Amir has repented and created me.” She turned to address Maya and Avi. “I will be more than welcome to show you the truth if only you guarantee Abdi Makhoul’s safety.”

“This is preposterous! Guards—“ King Avi began, but Maya interrupted him.

“You have my word,” Maya extended her hand, and Sunita shook to seal the contract.


	21. Chapter 21

After coming so close to losing each other, Amir and Abdi did not want to separate. Within Sunita, they had continued their embrace, and as they reformed into their separate selves, they found themselves forehead to forehead once more. 

Abdi couldn’t open his eyes. He heard Amir saying something, but everything that had happened that morning still ran through his head and wow, now he was standing in front of four royals looking like a complete idiot and—

“Open your eyes. It’s okay,” Amir took his hand, and this contact comforted him.

His eyes slid open slowly, and what he saw baffled him.

Amin had sunk to the ground with his head in his hands. Joyful tears streamed down King Maya’s cheeks. King Avi’s mouth moved up and down, ever ready for a comment, but this time words escaped him.

His gaze returned to Amir, and the prince frowned.

“I know as Sunita I have apologized to you,” Amir started, “But I feel it’s important to say just how wrong I was.”

“I was wrong as well,” he admitted in turn, “I do have a home to return to.”


	22. Chapter 22

Before Sunita even ascended the throne, she convinced the current King to end the age-old custom that assigned children as men or women. She specified in her public address that some, like her, were neither.

When Abdi’s name became known throughout Khej, his parents, who had lied that their son had died at war, boasted to everyone in their village that their son had actually become royalty. No one believed them.

Although King Maya and Avi’s son had found a partner in another male, they held off on declaring this legal in fear that their surrounding countries would cut trade with them and even make an attempt at conquering them as Abalee had failed to do. When she finally ascended the throne, Sunita decreed males could wed males and females could wed females. The kingdom prospered like no other time in recorded history, and although many countries would wage war with Khej on the grounds that Sunita was morally corrupting her citizens, well, no other country was ruled by a true King, were they?


End file.
